


Coffee and Kismet

by grelleswife



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Grelle is recovering from a bad breakup with Claude Faustus, M/M, Trans Female Character, actress!Grelle, barista!Mey Rin, bisexual Grelle, bisexual Mey Rin, female pronouns for Grelle, more characters will appear in later chapters, the whole coffeeshop ships them, they are soft and very much in love, they're both disasters bless them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2020-09-06 11:35:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20290795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grelleswife/pseuds/grelleswife
Summary: Single once again after a bad breakup, famous actress Grelle Sutcliff is immediately captivated by Mey Rin, a new barista at her favorite cafe. Could it be kismet for Grelle to find happiness at last? Perhaps love can be as simple as a cup of coffee.





	1. The New Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sapphic Sutcliff Week "free day" prompt
> 
> kis·met (noun): Fate
> 
> A wholesome Grellrin coffeeshop AU with a dash of Sebagni thrown in for good measure. It might take me a while to complete this work, but I hope to have the second chapter ready soon!

Grelle carefully stepped out of the sleek red car, gratefully accepting the hand proffered by her trusted bodyguard, Agni. He looked immensely dignified in his crisp, white suit, which he always managed to keep spotless. “You’ll meet us inside once you find parking, Bassy?” she asked her devilishly handsome chauffeur. “Of course,” he smiled, winking at Agni. Grelle grinned. The two men had recently started dating (Grelle prided herself on playing the vital role of matchmaker) and seized every opportunity they could to spend time together. While Sebastian pulled away from the curb, Grelle and Agni made their way to the entrance of Red’s, the actress’s favorite café. It was owned and operated by Grelle’s best friend and former college roommate, Angelina Dalles. Grelle loved the little café not only because of the splendid color scheme (nothing could compare to _red_), quality coffee, and cheerful ambience, but because it was one of the precious few public spaces where she was safe from those vultures, the paparazzi. While An herself couldn’t divulge exactly what his job was, her brother-in-law Vincent Phantomhive was involved in certain shadowy goings-on within the upper echelons of the government, which had resulted in him accruing a veritable spider’s web of useful “connections.” He’d called upon a few of those connections to equip the café with discrete but highly effective security systems, and a few strapping, appropriately intimidating individuals (generally Wolfram and Baldroy, who Grelle regarded as dear friends by this point) usually patrolled the premises to keep an eye on things. Consequently, Red’s served as a haven for those who wished to enjoy a cup of coffee without fear of prying eyes. Vincent himself would occasionally conduct whispered conferences with his right-hand man, Diedrich, in a secluded corner of the establishment.

That was none of Grelle’s concern, though. The media had been having a field day with her breakup with producer Claude Faustus, and she was in need of a respite from the turmoil of the past few weeks. She’d been such a bloody fool over that man. Even Sebastian had warned her that Claude was nothing but trouble. Unfortunately, when her heart was on fire, smoke got in her eyes, and that was certainly the case with that cheating, lying, moneygrubbing scumbag. Good riddance! She had played her fair share of romantic heroines on the big screen, but Grelle was beginning to despair of finding love in real life.

Determined to banish such gloomy musings, she set her jaw and walked into the café. Her high heels clicked decisively against the floor as she went to the register and placed her and Agni’s order. The patrons looked up when she came in, and a few waved hello, but they soon returned to their beverages. Practically everyone who frequented the café at this time of day was a regular, so there was no need to worry about being accosted by groupies demanding her autograph.

Grelle seated herself at her customary table, located by a window with a charming box of crimson tulips blooming outside. The small, circular wooden table was meant for two, and more than one ex of Grelle’s had sat across from her at this exact spot in past years. For obvious reasons, she had it to herself today. Agni situated himself at a respectful distance, far enough away to give the star her space but close enough to be by her side in a flash should the need arise. Grelle gazed outside dreamily, tapping manicured fingernails on the warm, golden wood while she waited for her coffee. Her attention was soon diverted, however, by a high-pitched shriek.

“AAAAA!”

Turning her head, Grelle was startled to see a young barista trip and topple to the ground, the tray she had been carrying (bearing five cups of coffee) falling with an ear-splitting clatter. Mugs shattered, and the splattering coffee missed Grelle by an uncomfortably narrow margin.

A shocked silence descended over the café.

“Are you all right?” Grelle asked in concern, kneeling by the barista.

“I think I’m okay, I am,” the young woman said shakily, though her eyes widened in dismay as she took in the mess before her.

“Oh NOOOO!” she wailed. “I’m so sorry!!! I-I’ll clean it up right away, I will.”

“Accidents happen, love, and I know you didn’t mean any harm,” Grelle reassured her. “Here, let me get you some napkins.”

While Grelle helped the barista clean up the worst of the spilled coffee, another barista, Finny, brought a broom and dustpan to sweep up the broken remnants of the mugs. An emerged from the back to investigate the commotion. Once she confirmed that the barista was unharmed, she began scolding her. “Look at the mess you’ve made, Mey Rin!” she chided, placing her hands on her hips and giving the stammering barista a stern glare. “This is your third fall this week, and I don’t have infinite resources to replace all these mugs!”

Mey Rin. A pretty name.

“Now, Red,” Grelle interrupted, using the nickname she’d given An back in their college days, “Don’t be so cross. Besides, darling, you know where to find me if you need help buying supplies—heaven knows I’d rather spend my money on friends than on that bastard Claude…”

Meanwhile, the barista took a closer look at the actress’s face and almost lost her balance again. “_Grelle_?” she squeaked in disbelief.

She’d been recognized. As much as Grelle appreciated the perks of fame, it was hard not to feel a bit apprehensive when a stranger realized that she was _the_ Grelle Sutcliff. She loved her fans to death, but some of them were borderline maniacal.

Thankfully, Mey Rin soon proved her fears to be unfounded. Clasping her hands and blushing profusely, the barista squealed, “You’re my favorite actress, you are!!! I’ve seen all of your movies five times! You’re amazing, you are! When you play a role, it’s like you _are_ that character! I can feel exactly what they’re feeling! Like in _Red Ripper_—”

“Mey _Rin_!” An berated her, grabbing more napkins. “This is a café, not a meet-and-greet, and we still need to clean this up. Besides, can’t you let Grelle have a moment’s peace from being hounded by the public?”

Mey ducked her head guiltily.

For the first time in weeks, Grelle laughed, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You’re not bothering me, dear. I can always make time for fans.” Mey Rin beamed, and even the exasperated An seemed somewhat mollified, though she insisted Grelle return to her seat.

As she went back to her table and studied the barista, Grelle realized something—Mey Rin was cute. _Damn_, was she cute. Behind those round spectacles was a pair of large, almond-shaped eyes. A warm shade of brown, with bits of amber if one looked closely. Her short hair was a fetching red with hints of purple, her face sweet and so pretty that it ought to have been illegal. And that _figure_! Not to mention the fact that she was sincere. While Grelle’s craft was her passion, the dark side of the profession—politics, scandal, treachery—was exhausting to deal with. To encounter someone who was truly enthusiastic about her work yet demanded nothing from her…it was immensely refreshing.

Grelle shook her head slightly as if to banish those thoughts. She’d come here for coffee, not romance. Not to mention the fact that, with her rotten luck in the love department, Mey Rin was probably straight.

Mey Rin brought Grelle’s latte—though her posture was still wobbly, she managed the task without spilling a drop.

“I’m so so so SO sorry about the accident,” she stammered, looking down at the floor in shame.

“It’s _fine_, darling, truly.” She had no business whatsoever being this cute.

“You’re new, I take it?” Grelle asked inquisitively. Despite herself, she couldn’t help wanting to learn more about this woman.

“Just moved ‘ere a couple weeks ago to live with my cousin Ran Mao, yes I did. Because…um…well, life an’ things…” She rubbed her forearm uneasily, clearly reluctant to elaborate.

Grelle had certainly been there and done that. “Life an’ things” could be bloody complicated, and it would have been unladylike to pry.

“An’ I started looking for a job, yes I did, and Miss Dalles had a spot at the café, an’…’ere I am.” Mey Rin finished in a rush. She looked at the floor again. “I must sound right boring, what with you bein’ an actress.”

“Oh, acting’s not all bright lights and red carpets, believe you me,” Grelle sighed wearily. “Long hours, more drama offscreen than on half the time, always looking over my shoulder for fear of those bloody paparazzi…sometimes I’m downright jealous of people with peaceful, normal lives.”

Mey Rin’s mouth formed a surprised “o.”

The bell at the entrance jingled. “Mey Rin! More customers are arriving!” An called from behind the counter, impatiently motioning for the barista to return.

“Ooo…I-I’d better to going, yes I should!” Mey Rin stammered, rushing back to her post with fear and trembling. Grelle pouted. Really, Red was being rather unreasonable. She would have liked to chat more with the pretty barista, though _not_ out of any romantic motives, (_she’s probably straight, she’s probably straight_, the actress chanted to herself, determined to nip that foolishness in the bud). Grelle was a social butterfly by nature, and it was always nice to make new acquaintances. That was all.

She took a sip of her coffee, glancing over at Agni. At some point during the hubbub, Sebastian had arrived. He sat across from Agni, holding the bodyguard’s right hand in his as his face lit up in a tender smile. They really were an adorable couple. Agni leaned closer to Bassy, eyes crinkling affectionately. Grelle could have sworn that she heard him whisper something about “a new barista” that made Sebastian chuckle. Had Sebastian’s eyes, now sparkling mischievously, flicked over to her table for a second? Surely not. Probably just her imagination.

During a lull, An stopped by to chat for a few minutes—how good it was to catch up after the Claude fiasco! Eventually, though, it was time to leave, and Grelle signaled to Agni and Sebastian that they were heading out.

However, something compelled her to turn back briefly. There was Mey Rin, shyly looking at her from the register. Grelle couldn’t help but smile at the darling barista, and she cheerfully waved goodbye. Mey Rin reddened but waved back enthusiastically, almost accidentally smacking Finny.

As Sebastian led Grelle and Agni to the car, he casually remarked, “You seemed quite taken with that new girl.”

“Mey Rin,” Grelle corrected him automatically. “And why on earth wouldn’t I be? She might be a bit klutzy, but she’s sweet.” Sebastian shot a meaningful glance at Agni, who raised his eyebrows and nodded sagaciously.

“Don’t you dare go getting ideas, Bassy!” Grelle protested.

“Of course not,” Sebastian replied mildly. “Just an observation, that’s all.” Agni beamed beatifically. Grelle rolled her eyes in exasperation. Honestly!

However, when she got in the car, Grelle eagerly opened her phone. Scrolling through her schedule for the coming week, she quickly determined that she could work in at least one visit to Red’s. After all, she always enjoyed seeing An and having her favorite latte. If she happened to cross paths with Mey Rin, so much the better. It would be marvelous if they could get to know each other…maybe become friends. Simply friends. Nothing more.

But Grelle couldn’t help but feel a happy little flutter in the pit of her stomach when she recalled Mey Rin’s smile.


	2. Butterflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grelle most definitely does NOT have a crush on the sweet, adorable new barista, but Mey Rin gives her butterflies all the same.

For the rest of the week, Grelle waited impatiently for her next visit to Red’s, compulsively counting down the days. The day of, she reminded Sebastian twice that she required his services for this _extremely important_ appointment and got downright huffy when he snickered into his shirtsleeve. “What’s so funny about grabbing a coffee, Bassy? An actress has to stay caffeinated!” she demanded, crossing her arms petulantly. That only added to Sebastian’s merriment. “Fu, fu, fu,” he chortled. When Agni gave him a stern look, Sebastian purred, “Oh, nothing, Miss Sutcliff. Just a little private joke.”

Hmph! It was lucky for Bassy that she was so fond of him. Private joke her ass! He might have been thinking about her earlier interest in Mey Rin, but that was perfectly innocuous. True, she thought that Mey Rin was winsome, sweet, and too precious for words, but anyone with eyes and an ounce of common sense would say as much.

As proof to her chauffeur (and herself) that her sole motive for visiting the café was to buy a latte, she brought along the script for _Kismet_, an upcoming film in which she was starring. With its cozy, peaceful atmosphere, Red’s was the perfect spot to learn lines. Grelle sometimes spent hours at a time poring over a script as she immersed herself in her character.

The moment Grelle entered the café, script in hand, her eyes avidly searched for a certain redhead. There she was, dithering at one of the machines, hands fumbling while she tried to make one of the more complicated beverages on the menu.

She’d gotten prettier. How had she gotten prettier? Her clumsiness and little squeaks of distress were absolutely _adorable_. Seeing the barista’s harried expression, Grelle wanted to give her a hug…

_ She’s probably straight, Grelle Sutcliff! _

That internal admonition didn’t stop her from calling out a bubbly, “Good afternoon!”

Mey Rin glanced up, eyes shining and cheeks flushing as she caught sight of Grelle. The distraction caused her grip on the cup to loosen. In an instant, coffee spilled over the bar. “Not again!” Mey Rin cried, clapping her hands to her head. Grelle winced, stung by a sharp twinge of guilt for taking Mey Rin’s attention away from her tasks. She snatched a handful of napkins from a nearby table and raced to her aid.

“What did I tell you?” Sebastian muttered to Agni. “Be good, dear,” the bodyguard chided him. Grelle refrained from turning around and firing off a barbed retort. She’d deal with her sassy chauffeur later. At the moment, she had to focus on the hysterical (and exceptionally cute) barista.

“We meet again!” Grelle laughed, winking at Mey Rin as she leaned over the counter to mop up the mess. Mey Rin’s face, already red, was practically glowing now.

“You’re lucky Miss Angelina wasn’t here to see that, Mey Rin!” Finny tutted from his position at the cash register.

“Oh I’m so dreadfully klutzy, yes I am, an’ now you’re cleanin’ up after me an’ you shouldn’t do that, no you shouldn’t, Miss Grelle,” Mey Rin hiccuped, seemingly beside herself with humiliation. “It was my fault for makin’ the mess…”

“But I’m the one who strolled in and interrupted you in the first place,” Grelle consoled her. The napkins seemed to do the trick, and they were able to clean up the coffee. Except for a slight stickiness, you’d never have guessed the accident happened in the first place.

“Thank you so much, Gre—er, I mean, Miss Sutcliff!” Mey Rin beamed. Her smile immediately made that damn flutter start up again.

“Please call me Grelle, darling. No need for formalities.”

“We do want to order our coffee at some point,” Sebastian commented mildly, looping an arm around Agni’s waist and leaning his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Grelle glowered at him. “We’re not in a rush, Sebby. It won’t kill you to be patient.”

Sebastian’s smirk deepened.

After placing their orders, the three sat at their respective tables, and Grelle pulled out her script. She soon became absorbed in the text, mouthing the words quietly to herself as she engraved them into her memory. The actress lifted her head at the sound of footsteps and saw Mey Rin shyly approach with her latte. This time, there were no accidents. The barista glanced curiously at Grelle’s script. “What book is that?”

“Well, it’s actually the script for my next movie. It’s called _Kismet_.”

Mey Rin’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Not wanting to make her feel embarrassed, Grelle hastily explained, “It’s just another word for ‘fate.’ Arabic, I think. The main story’s about a nineteenth-century noblewoman—that’s my character—who falls in love with her maidservant. Head over _heels_. Family, church, and society all stand against them, but they overcome impossible odds and run away to Paris. Fate ordained that they be together, so no one can tear them apart.”

Mey Rin squealed and clapped her hands.

“That’s so romantic, it is!”

Grelle smiled so hard her cheeks hurt. Before she had time to mull it over, she found herself asking, “Would you like me to recite a few lines for you?”

The barista’s hands flew to her mouth. “Really?!”

“It’s an excellent way to practice.” That was the _only_ motive at work here. Why would she go out of her way to impress someone she hardly knew?

Grelle set the script off to the side. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, settling into the character of Lady Rosemary Lister. Opening them, she straightened her spine to adopt a regal posture. She’d do one of the early monologues, when Lady Lister first confessed her feelings to the maid who had been pining after her.

Grelle’s eyes met Mey Rin’s, and they were no longer in the little coffeeshop, but standing in a secluded spot in the estate gardens. The air was redolent with the scent of honeysuckle, and Grelle felt that rare commodity, English sunshine, caress her face. Lady Lister had tossed propriety to the winds. Gesturing eloquently, she sought to convey both through her words and the silent pleading of her eyes how truly smitten she was with her maidservant. Her voice rose and fell, swelling in a passionate crescendo before pulling back in a hesitant diminuendo tinged with the fear of rejection. Her stately and measured tempo began to pick up speed. Then the final confession, fraught with hope, uncertainty, and passionate desperation:

“Cupid’s arrow pierced my heart, and it was ordained that I should love you, Margaret. You hold my happiness and my very fate in those gentle hands.”

Mey Rin clapped her hands to her mouth, turning the most beautiful _red_ Grelle had ever seen. “You’re amazing!!!” she squeaked. The other patrons burst into a round of applause.

“_Gut, ser Gut_,” Wolfram declared approvingly from his post by the door.

“Beautiful acting!” Vincent called from the shaded corner where he and Diedrich had been holding a quiet conference. His colleague, who was busy stuffing his face with one of the café’s sandwiches, gave her a thumbs-up. Agni glowed with pride, supportive as ever. Meanwhile, Sebastian’s eyes flitted from Mey Rin to Grelle and back again in smug satisfaction. What the hell was going on in that mind of his? However, Grelle was soon caught up in Mey Rin. Again, that _sincerity_ bowled her over. The barista was starry-eyed with admiration and grinning from ear to ear. She had an angelic smile, one that summoned a whole swarm of butterflies in Grelle’s stomach.

“I can’t wait to see the movie! If you did all that with jus' a script in the café, it’s gonna be mind-boggling on the big screen. You turned into a different person just now, you did. It’s like magic!”

“Oh, darling,” Grelle said, feeling uncommonly flustered by the praise, “I had to spend years honing my craft, and I still have a lot to learn. An actress is supposed to make everything look effortless, but the truth is that magic takes work.”

“Ooooo.” Mey Rin’s eyes widened in curiosity. Twisting her apron in her hands, she shyly asked, “W-would you mind telling me more? I mean, a-about actin’ an’ all?”

“Happy to!” Grelle trilled as she gestured to the seat in front of her. “And don’t you worry about making An angry; I’ll just tell her to blame me if she scolds you for chatting with customers.”

She must have misheard, but Grelle thought Agni whispered to Sebastian, “Things are moving!”

Grelle ended up staying for 45 minutes; when she was talking to Mey Rin, the time flew by. The only reason she didn’t stay longer was a sudden influx of customers, which forced Mey Rin to scurry back to her post.

“I should be back next week, darling,” Grelle blurted out. “Will you be working at the same time?”

Mey Rin nodded vigorously, eyes sparkling. “Y-yes, yes I will!”

It was _not_ fair for anyone to be this cute.

“I’ll see you then, dear.”

Grelle hummed a little tune to herself as she got in the backseat of the car.

“It’s good to see you happy again, Miss Grelle,” Agni smiled. “You seem more like your old self today.” Her bodyguard was a kind soul, and Grelle knew he’d been worried about her ever since the acrimonious finale to her relationship with Claude.

“I guess things are finally getting back to normal. About time, too!”

“A certain barista seems to be helping matters,” Sebastian remarked from behind the wheel.

“What the hell are you talking about, Bassy?” Grelle sputtered indignantly. Doubtless he was preparing some snide remark about her “new girlfriend.”

“I was just saying that you might have found a _new friend_,” he purred, looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “Did you think I meant something else?” He glanced at her in the rearview mirror and didn’t bother to hide the sly laughter dancing in those reddish-brown eyes.

Oooo, she could have slapped him! That devil! Well, whatever Bassy might be implying, she did _not_ have feelings for Mey Rin. Grelle Sutcliff was a sensible woman who knew that love was best relegated to the big screen. Happy endings generally panned out better there than in real life.

* * *

Later that night, Grelle lounged in her bedroom, clad in only a red silk bathrobe and fuzzy slippers while sipping a glass of wine. She couldn’t seem to relax, though. Time and again, her mind flitted back to the cute barista like a butterfly to its flower. Butterflies…

No. No no no no NO. She was more familiar with this feeling than she cared to admit. The flutter had marked the beginning of a few breathless flings with college girlfriends…and that brief but delightful affair with Mally when they’d co-starred in _Walking the Tightrope_…

“Oh, _shit_,” Grelle moaned, setting down her glass so abruptly that the wine almost sloshed over the edge.

She had a crush on Mey Rin.


	3. Cherry Chapstick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grelle lends Mey Rin her chapstick, leading to another conversation with the cute barista.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Grelle's day for the 2020 Kuroshitsuji Ladies Appreciation Week.

Grelle tried to put her newfound self-knowledge to good use. Since Mey Rin didn’t reciprocate her feelings, she needed to act the part of disinterested customer. No sense in throwing herself at the poor girl like a floozy! It should have been an easy role, but she broke character almost immediately. When she saw Mey Rin bustling behind the counter, her heart defied control and pounded erratically, a bolting horse that broke loose from the reins. The dizzy rush when their eyes met, the same wild, terrifying euphoria she felt riding a rollercoaster, nearly made her trip on her way to the table, despite the grace with which she normally walked in high heels. 

Grelle tried to distract herself by fiddling around on her phone, but her mind kept drifting back to that sunny smile.

She lifted her head at the sound of footsteps. Mey was coming with her order, albeit with the tray tilted dangerously to the right. She needed to stay calm. Keep interactions to a minimum…

“Thank you so much, darling!” she heard herself gush when Mey Rin shakily set the mug down. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Oh! It’s—It’s so so nice to see you too! I’ve b-been lookin’ forward all week, I ‘ave—”

Mey Rin stopped abruptly to chew at her pretty lips with a vaguely troubled expression. From Grelle’s vantage point, they looked cracked and dry. She wasn’t _focusing_ on Mey Rin’s lips, of course…or how kissable they were…oh hell…

To make matters worse, a little voice in the back of her head cheered, _She was looking forward to seeing you again! She wanted to see you!_

_Because she’s a _fan_, genius. She wouldn’t be interested in you like _that_._

Mey Rin patted her apron, then her pocketed skirt, growing visibly distressed.

“I forgot my chapstick, I did!”

Grelle perked up. An actress was prepared for every occasion, and she kept a large stash of beauty products in her purse. Sebastian often quipped that it weighed enough to make a highly effective murder weapon. After hastily rifling through its contents, she found what she was looking for.

“You can use mine, darling,” she said, offering a tube of cherry chapstick to the barista.

“Here we go,” Sebastian sniggered behind her.

“Oh, Sebastian,” Agni sighed affectionately, powerless to stop his boyfriend’s running commentary and too fond of him to try.

Grelle briefly considered lobbing the chapstick at Bassy, but Mey Rin’s shining eyes sent all coherent thoughts flying like a startled flock of sparrows.

“Uh…I, um…c-couldn’t possibly…” The barista seized her apron in both hands and scrunched it up. Shit, had Grelle been too forceful? But she’d already committed, so she might as well see this through.

“I won’t miss a little chapstick. Besides, women have to help each other out. It’s not like we can count on the boys!”

Mey Rin relaxed enough to giggle, and her hands returned to their sides.

Grelle patted the table. “Come, love. Sit next to me.”

Mey Rin grabbed the chair across from Grelle and shyly picked it up, setting it beside the actress. Grelle found herself appreciatively eyeing those strong upper arms. A sweet girl, but not a wilting violet. She barely suppressed a sigh of longing. How could she let herself get flustered so easily? This was hardly a schoolgirl’s first crush.

Grelle reached out and cradled Mey Rin’s cheek, which was soft and round as a ripened peach.

The barista’s mouth was an exquisite creation, its curves hinting at a sensuality hidden beneath the natural, delicate pink. The gap between the two women was temptingly narrow. They were close enough for Grelle to count Mey Rin’s dark lashes, whose fullness only required minimal augmentation from the brush. Grelle took her time, painting those lips an even, perfect shade of _red_. After finishing her work, she held the chapstick poised in midair.

“You’re dreadfully pretty, you know.”

She’d…she’d said that out loud. Shit, shit, _shit_.

Mey Rin turned such a deep magenta that Grelle half expected steam to come out of her ears, and Sebastian succumbed to a sudden fit of coughing.

“Not…n-not at all, really I’m not!” she stuttered.

What did the woman _mean_? Did she not have mirrors at home?

“Of course you are, darling!” Grelle insisted. Even to her own ears, she sounded more impassioned than she probably should, but didn’t Mey Rin realize how blinding her smile was? How graceful those elegant little hands were? How the light in those eyes dazzled you?

“Uh…w-well…you’re awful kind to say so, Miss Grelle,” Mey Rin squeaked in a barely audible voice as she looked down at the floor.

“I appreciate the “Miss,” love, but just Grelle will do.”

“Oh, is…is that a Funtom special edition chapstick, is it?” the barista asked. A clumsily obvious attempt to change the subject, but Grelle didn’t want to embarrass her further. And focusing on a safer topic than Mey Rin’s attractiveness was probably in her own best interests, too.

“Yes. The Cherries Jubilee one released last Christmas. An pulled a few strings and got me five crates of them. The shade is to _die_ for.”

“I love the Cherries Jubilee, yes I do. It’s my favorite. Pretty as can be, and the Japanese line ‘ad the cutest little sparkles. There was even a batch of ‘em that got pink wrappers by mistake, but those are super-rare. Like the Holy Grail, they are,” Mey Rin said. Her face shone with the telltale enthusiasm of someone who wishes to ramble about the topic they like best…but then she shrank back timidly.

“Th-though I guess that kind of thing is boring to most people, it is…”

“No, it’s perfectly fine, darling! I could use the company, and I certainly have no objections to chapstick.” Grelle gave her the warmest smile at her disposal. She’d be damned before shutting this precious woman down when the topic clearly meant something to her.

“I collect ‘em, yes I do!” Mey burst out. “The Funtom ones are the best, o’ course, but I jus’ like chapstick. I have a cabinet at home to keep ‘em in. They’re all lined up by brand and flavor, an’ I try to arrange ‘em so the colors look pretty, too! Sometimes it’s ‘ard to find the fancy limited-edition ones, but I save up when I can, yes I do!”

“Goodness! That takes dedication. How many do you have, poppet?”

Mey Rin bit her bottom lip (adorable!) “Um…one ‘undred an’ seventy-nine, I think?”

She must have seen Grelle’s flabbergasted expression, because she hastily stammered, “I-I know it’s stupid to buy that many just to put ‘em in a display case.”

“That’s not stupid, darling. Doing things you enjoy is what keeps the flame of _passion _lit, and that makes life worth living. I’ve never made a cent off scrapbooking, but I adore it. Have since I was a girl. And sewing my plush dolls.”

“Oh! I remember readin’ about the dolls in one of your interviews for _Enix _magazine. They’re so cute!” Mey Rin interjected.

Grelle found herself blushing furiously, and at an utter loss for words. As someone constantly in the public eye, she knew the importance of poise, always having a quick remark or two at the ready. But a bit of praise from Mey Rin, and she lost her cool completely. Damn, she must look like an idiot.

_Come on, Grelle! The silence is going to get awkward in a second, and then you’ll make her uncomfortable, and…shit, woman, _ say something _!_

“Creating things was…um…was a distraction, you know? My childhood wasn’t the happiest, and my career had a damn rocky start. Some days, I was convinced I’d never make it. But when I was sewing, or putting a scrapbook together, my mind and hands were too busy for me to feel sad.”

Mey Rin grinned and nodded.

“It’s the same with me! I started collectin’ chapsticks when things were…tough, they were, awful tough. Havin’ something’ bright an’ cheerful to look at made me feel better.”

“Mey Rin! I need some help with these orders!” Finny hollered from the counter.

“J-Jus’ a second!” Mey Rin called back, leaping out of her chair like a startled deer. Her wistful eyes met Grelle’s, and the actress’s grip tightened around her mug when those wretched butterflies soared in her stomach. “I’m so sorry…I wish I could stay, but…”

“I understand, love. And I really shouldn’t keep you when you’re working. I’m the one who ought to apologize,” Grelle said with a sheepishness she seldom felt. The last thing she wanted was to get Mey Rin in trouble!

She nursed her latte in silence and tried to ignore the dull ache beneath her breastbone, darting furtive glances over at the counter when Mey Rin wasn’t looking. Grelle didn’t want to appear rude by staring, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the girl. Sebastian finally broke the spell. He smirked and purred, “Enjoying the view?”

“You _bastard_,” Grelle hissed, lowering her voice so the other patrons didn’t hear.

“Behave, dear!” Agni chided. He shot an apologetic look at the actress. “You shouldn’t tease Miss Grelle like that.”

“It’s not _my_ fault that she and our little barista friend keep dancing around each other,” the chauffeur drawled.

Grelle scoffed, though a wave of heat crept up her neck.

When Agni shook his head reproachfully, Sebastian clasped his hand. “You know you love me, sunshine.”

The bodyguard caved and smiled, brushing Sebastian’s bangs out of his eyes. “Very much. Even when you’re misbehaving.”

They really made a beautiful couple. Grelle gazed down pensively at her reflection in the mug, unable to stifle a twinge of jealousy.

A few minutes later, An made the rounds cleaning empty tables, slowly getting closer to Grelle. She adopted a hands-on approach to running her café and took pride in keeping the place pristine.

Once she was done, An scooted over to Grelle’s table. After seating herself, she placed her elbows on the polished redwood, formed a steeple with her fingertips, and leaned in to whisper, “Maybe it’s none of my business, love, but when are you going to ask Mey out?”

Grelle choked on her last sip of coffee.

“An, the _hell_?” she sputtered.

“Grelle, you’d have better luck putting out a forest fire with a bucket than hiding when you have a crush on someone. And Mey _adores_ you,” An said, cutting to the chase.

“She’s a sweetheart, but some fans get a little shy when they meet me in person; that’s just human nature. And—and she probably isn’t even gay!” _If only she was_, Grelle silently wished.

“I don’t know that for certain, but I do know that she’s even klutzier than usual whenever you’re around, and walks on air for hours after you’ve left, and chatters about you on a daily basis. Bard and Wolf have already placed bets on when you’ll get together.”

“_What?!_”

Grelle’s outraged shriek turned several heads and prompted another mysterious bout of coughing from Sebastian. Mey Rin was so startled she spilled a mocha on the floor.

Grelle could have kicked herself. She mouthed a penitent “I’m sorry” at Mey, who blushed and ducked her head to see to the mess.

“Case in point,” An smirked, raising an eyebrow knowingly.

“But…but even assuming she said yes, which I doubt she would, I couldn’t drag her through all the shite I have to put up with for my career. Being an actress is like being stuck in goldfish bowl for everyone to ogle. Mey’s a sensitive girl, I think. Tender hearts bleed under public scrutiny. I…I’d only hurt her, in the end.”

“Don’t you think Mey Rin should be the judge of that?”

“I’ve fucked up _each_ and _every_ relationship I’ve ever been in. Why would this be any different? I’d ruin things, and she’d end up hating me, and we’d both be miserable. She’s so _sweet_, Red. How could I do that to her?”

“Not all fuck-ups are created equal. And don’t be so harsh on yourself. Yeah, you’ve made mistakes, but you don’t always pick the greatest partners, Grelle.”

An raised a manicured finger to stifle Grelle’s protests.

“I love you, hun, but you know it’s true. Think about it. Could _any_one have a healthy relationship with someone like Claude?”

“Well…uh…” Grelle sighed, admitting defeat. She had to concede that her tastes in men weren’t exactly the best. Why did she have such a knack for picking the bad ones?

“My point is that Mey Rin isn’t like your exes. She’s her own person, and a lovely one, at that…”

A muffled yelp, and they turned to see Mey Rin collide with Finny, smacking her head against his. Grelle winced in sympathy as her poor darling rubbed her temple.

“…even if she causes more mishaps than I’d like,” An concluded with a rueful grin. “And the worst that could happen is that she says no. It’s better to know for certain.”

Grelle pursed her lips and shook her head emphatically. “I should hold back, darling. Stay out of trouble.” _I’m not sure how many more times I can stand having my heart broken_.

An frowned in irritation. “Aren’t you being a bit hypocritical?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you really think I’d have screwed up the courage to talk to Franny if you hadn’t practically pushed me into her arms? And now look at us. We’re engaged. All because I took that first step.”

An flashed the ring on her right hand for emphasis. She’d spent months pining after Vincent’s sister Frances before Grelle finally introduced her to the woman at a charity gala the actress had been hosting. Franny and An were soon head over heels. No one had been surprised when Frances proposed, and their wedding was only two months away.

“Love’s not always like the movies. But if you work at it, and you’re with the right person, you can make a happy ending,” An concluded.

Grelle cupped her chin in her hand. “I wish I could believe you, darling.”

“Trust me. Have I ever led you wrong?”

When Grelle snorted and opened her mouth to give a sassy retort, An laughed. “On second thought, don’t answer that.” Her expression turned serious. “Will you at least consider it, though? Promise?”

Grelle slowly exhaled. “I’ll think it over.”

“Yes! Thank Kali!” Agni cheered behind her.

“And you were telling _me_ to behave!” Sebastian hissed.

She’d really become so infatuated with this girl that her employees were fully aware of it. Damn it all.

“That’s more like it,” An grinned. She got up and gave Grelle’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “I know you’ve had some dead awful exes, but I have a good feeling about Mey.”

“We’re running short on time, Miss Grelle,” Sebastian purred. “Your nail appointment’s in fifteen minutes.”

“Tch!” Grelle scowled. So soon? For once, she didn’t give a damn about that stupid appointment; she wanted to stay and have another chance to talk with Mey Rin. She sulkily pushed back her chair and rose to leave, though not before leaving a generous tip beneath her mug.

As she walked out with Agni and Sebastian, a familiar voice squeaked, “H-have a wonderful day!!!”

She spun around and smiled into those sparkling brown eyes. “You do the same, darling.” At that moment, she realized that Mey Rin wasn’t merely pretty; she was as beautiful as an angel. When Bard gave her a thumbs-up on her way out the door, Grelle tried not to think about the bet he’d made with Wolfram.

Grelle’s head was still spinning as she got in the backseat…until the plushie with its stitched-up mouth and red button eyes snapped her back into focus. She’d made it for Bassy as a practical joke, pranking him with a “cursed” doll-sized replica of himself on the limo’s dashboard one Halloween. To her surprise, Bassy liked it enough to keep it, and “Dollbastian” now sat proudly in his place of honor. Seeing the doll made Grelle think about her conversation with Mey…which reminded her of a certain flavor of Funtom chapstick…Mey had mentioned it was hard to find, but Grelle made the kind of money that could open doors. She quickly searched her contacts. She should have time to make a few calls before they reached the nail salon.

On her next visit, Grelle happily chatted with the barista for almost half an hour, though the time rushed by far too fast. She could have talked to her for _days_! In addition to the tip (a few bank notes larger than last time), Grelle also placed a small pink chapstick on the tabletop. _Cherries Jubilee_ was emblazoned across the wrapper, and the present was taped to a small note.

_For the woman who has everything else_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last line is indeed a quote from National Treasure. :3


End file.
